


It Only Hurts When I Laugh

by infectedscrew



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bad Jokes, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:23:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6781531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infectedscrew/pseuds/infectedscrew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Favorite OTP w/ Hurt/Comfort + Comedy"</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Only Hurts When I Laugh

It was very rare that Tim didn’t feel guilty about laughing at someone. Right at that moment he was sure that if he stopped laughing he would sink into a pit of self-chastisement for being so unkind. As it was, laughter was impossible to stop.

“Well I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself!” Dick grumbled, voice muffled by the carpet he had currently shoved it into.

Tim clutched his stomach, bent over and trying to pull in a steadying breath. “I-I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “You just—I’m sorry—I’ve never seen anyone—Oh God, I’m sorry.”

Dick dropped the rest of his body off the bed, preferring to keep himself all on one level. With a small groan he rolled onto his back, eyes closing. “I didn’t expect the floor to meet me that fast,” he mumbled, rubbing his newly injured nose.

With his lungs in working order, Tim knelt down next to Dick. He was fighting to keep a smile off his flushed face, even as concern was quickly replacing amusement. Leaning forward, he carefully rearranged Dick’s legs, taking pressure off of the sprained ankle that had locked him on bed rest in the first place.

Dick sucked in a sharp breath with a hiss, nose wrinkling in distaste.

“Sorry, Dick. If you’re going to stay on the floor you need to take pressure off that ankle,” Tim explained. He gently tugged Dick’s shirt down, covering the bruises littering his midsection.

Dick sighed, the breath leaving his lips in a sharp gust. He folded his hands over his chest, looking for all the world like he was laying himself to a permanent rest.

“I told you I would change the channel you know,” Tim chided, pushing himself back to his feet.

“Yeah, but you were taking too long and I really hate that commercial,” Dick answered, peeking one eye open to track Tim’s movements.

Tim rolled his eyes, snagging the remote off of the nightstand. How it hadn’t joined Dick on the floor, considering it’s precarious place on the edge of the wood, was beyond Tim. He turned back to the television, flipping to a kid’s cartoon channel he knew Dick would like.

“Couldn’t you have just squeezed your eyes shut and sung Queen really loud, like you normally do?” Tim asked, stepping around Dick to the side of the bed.

“Maybe, but my throat is starting to hurt with all the singing,” Dick returned. He lifted his hand up and quickly drew a sharp squeak from Tim.

“Don’t!” Tim complained without much heat, swatting Dick’s hand away from his backside. “I’m trying to do something.”

Dick’s lower lip jutted out, dropping his hand back to his chest. “Fine,” he mumbled, petulant.

Tim tugged the pillows off the bed, dropping them near Dick. The thick, fleece blanket soon joined the pillows. Soon enough the pillows were arranged comfortably under Dick’s neck and ankle, with an extra for Tim.

Once settled on the floor, Tim pulled the blankets over the both of them.

“Not banishing me back to bed?” Dick questioned, eyeing Tim curiously.

“This is the third time you’ve gotten yourself out of bed to disastrous results. Staying on the floor might be the best option,” Tim explained, handing the remote over to Dick. “The worst that could happen is that you manage to roll all the way through the hall and down the stairs.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Dick teased, winking.

Tim rolled his eyes for the second time. “Shut up and heal, Dick.”


End file.
